


the fruits we reap

by swallows (toska)



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, Role Reversal, gift fic for novas, in which manipulation goes a long away, may classify as a mature fic????, this turned out different than what i intended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toska/pseuds/swallows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hades/persephone | genocider syo/togami: in which togami could be hers, if he simply kissed her pomegranate stained lips. gift-fic for novas</p>
            </blockquote>





	the fruits we reap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samarecarm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samarecarm/gifts).



> novas, you were the one who asked for this fic- well for this pairing and i really hope you like it and i hope you beat Terranort soon! 
> 
> standard disclaimers apply

**the fruits we reap**

hades/persephone | genocider syo/togami 

_(i will not break, i will not feast— for if we are mirror images of ghosts,_

_i will not allow history to repeat)_

**.**

She likes to go bars late at night and scout out the pretty ones, lets them buy her a drink, lets them think she’s a sheep in a den full of wolves (she scoffs at the irony, don’t they know by now it’s always the quiet ones), lets them buy her a pomegranate martini, or two, then let’s them go in for the kill (gasps as they grab her slim waist possessively, her face buried against him, until they reach the car where he’s tilting her face up and bending a bit, and she’s running her hands across his back- when he kisses her.)

When he kisses her, he is hers. 

(they don’t realize this, but it’s the lip gloss that does the killing blow. they always assume it’s the martini, but her lips are painted with pomegranates, and besides she rather share a kiss than share a fruit any day—  it makes the ownership even sweeter.)

**.**

There is only one rule of this game— he has to initiate the kiss and then he is hers. Hers to play with. Hers to fuck.  Hers to break.  Hers to cut.  Hers to kill. 

Hers. 

**.**

He wasn’t like other boys, though. 

Even though he likes his women meek and submissive, and this faux identity as Touko Fukawa is making her sick to her stomach. Fukawa is a smart girl, but she is incredibly stupid as well— but she knows what she wants, and currently she wants him. 

Following him like a love sick puppy wasn’t the best way to go about this plan, but she is nothing but the plague to him. She’ll be there in the deepest corner of his mind, waiting for him to be hers. 

“I won’t leave you alone, till you kiss me,” she says. 

He scoffs and leaves the room.

 She finds herself in lust, eyes dazed, mouth open, as if she has been thoroughly kissed.

 She wants him. 

**.**

He is a lot like her. 

Manipulative, cruel, in a position of high power, well she supposes she is crueler— but something in his eyes, shows her that he knows the game she is playing. Something in his eyes makes her see that he wants to break her, as much as he wants her to fuck off. Something in his eyes makes her feel as if though he was power over her. 

This boy is dangerous. 

She will break him. 

**.**

He thinks she’s in love with him. Well not really, but she’s always been fond of the pretty ones and nothing would pleasure her more than to run her scissors through his clothes before going straight for the heart. 

**.**

He’s letting her tag along with him now, she considers this progress. He still won’t spare her much of a glance, but he’s letting her sit next to him. She wonders how long it would take for him to let her kiss him. 

**.**

Kirigiri doesn’t approve of this game, of any of these games. 

She doesn’t understand the adrenaline rush, the intoxication that comes from the pain and pleasure, of receiving pain and inflicting it and scent of pomegranates. Neither do the others, who look disapprovingly at her, as if she’s the bad guy.

But she’s not. 

They all have their secrets here, and she’ll allow them to keep them for now. 

**.**

He has quite a delicate neck; she thinks it would be rather easy to snap it. 

Maybe even bruise it with love bites and she’ll bite him so hard and make him bleed. She thinks his blood would taste like vodka, old spice, cigarette ashes, and pride— she licks her lips in anticipation. He notices her and quirks an eyebrow, she only smiles. 

For once he is intrigued, and for once he doesn’t understand. 

**.**

Today he is angry. 

His shoulders tense, his fist clenched, his eyes are darkened. 

She wonders if today is the day he will finally be hers. 

It’s not. 

(She purses her lips together, getting impatient— she doesn’t care about the thrill of the hunt, she just wants to break him and put him back together and control him like he’s a puppet. She wants to carve her name onto his skin, she wants to fuck him, and breathe him, and own him—

The want is turning into hunger)

.

She always knew he was strong, but she wasn’t the goddess of death anymore— with him around. This was turning into an addiction, fueled by pomegranate martinis and strong shoulders, mixed with cold smiles. 

She can’t get out. 

**.**

When he kissed her, he killed her or maybe she killed him. 

She wasn’t really sure, just blinded by the throw of passion and the long awaited victory. Her arms wrap around his torso, and his hands move along her body. She bites his lips, he bleeds. He bites her neck, she bruises. 

Lights are off and she truly awakens. 

The Genocider has come to play. 

**.**

(the kiss was going to happen anyways she thinks—  she may have been the one pining, but there is nothing a man likes more than a girl pining for him, to give him strength or boost his ego)

**.**

When he is asleep, she grabs her scissors and begins to cut, carve and devour. The kiss has already done its magic, and now the rest is up to her. 

**.**

(she still has Togami around, her name cut into his chest, and the taste of his blood is still fresh in his mouth and his lips are still on hers— it’s hard to break such a lovely boy, with such cold eyes. he snarls at her, but she doesn’t mind, just pulls him in for a kiss. she whispers secrets into his mouth and her tongue traces his scars, and she realizes that she isn’t even done with him—

the fun has just barely begun )

 

**Author's Note:**

> oh man i hoped you guys liked it, maybe it's just me who feels like i rushed the end, but you know who a writer's biggest critic is themselves? because that's how it is for me. and this was my first dangan ronpa fanfiction, btw- ahh i really feel like reading it again!


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